The Slytherin Who Lived
by Smithers-the-muggle
Summary: AU. Year one. Petunia and Vernon raised Harry as their own, teaching him to be wary of the world that claimed the lives of his parents. Obviously a Slytherin Harry fic. No pairings yet. NOT SLASH
1. Author's Note

**Author's note:**

(This will be a generic note at the beginning of all my stories)

I do not own the characters for my story, or the places, or even the objects. The only thing I own is a laptop and imagination (hooray for corniness!). I mean no copyright infringement for this story, and I make absolutely no profit on it, other than the satisfaction of having written.

I will not be making any author's notes throughout regarding this, as it is stated clearly here, unless I take text directly from a story, as is sometimes inevitable. I will also try to limit my overall author's notes, unless it is to apologize for some delay, or to explain something. I may, however, have a generic note at the beginning of each chapter, saying "Hope you enjoy", or something similar, as well as one at the end of each, thanking you for reading.

Also, I refuse to beg for reviews, as I find it annoying and rather rude, to be frank. If you wish to review, by all means, do. I only ask that you be civil, and please try to keep it to constructive criticism, and in return I will not threaten to withhold chapters until people review. I'm not doing this to feel famous, I'm doing it because writing is fun for me, and I like to entertain others.

On a last note, I believe in staunch honor and integrity. As such, I will never knowingly steal an idea from another story. As there are so many stories on this site, I know that it is impossible to be completely original, and due to the fact that I have read well over a hundred stories here myself, some of my ideas may have been inspired by another story. If I can remember the story, I will ask for the author's permission to use the idea, and credit the author. I apologize if you see something from your own story within mine, and ask that you message me about it, and I will try to clear it up, as well as credit you, if I did indeed get the idea from your story.

However, if I did not get it from your story, and it is purely coincidence that we had similar ideas, I ask that you respectfully let me claim the idea for my own, and we can share a toast to our similar brilliance. lol

Without further ado, my story. I do hope you enjoy.


	2. Chapter 1:The BoyWhoLived and Hogwarts

**A/N: I hope you enjoy this first chapter.**

**Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived and Hogwarts**

In a medium sized bedroom, within the fourth house on the right side of Privet Drive, in Surrey, a pair of bright green eyes opened very suddenly on the morning of September 1, 1991. This was the day that the Boy-Who-Lived would be starting school.

"Harry, dear, breakfast is ready." He heard his aunt call from the kitchen. "Hurry up, Dudley's already down here, and we want to make sure you have everything ready."

Harry James Potter sat up and stretched deeply, which enticed a contented sigh from within him. He stood up and walked out of his room to the small bathroom that connected his room to his cousin's, and looked in the mirror. The boy looking back at him had very unruly black hair, not just a byproduct of sleep, but something that no amount of hair gel could tame, as his Aunt Petunia had tried her hardest. Beneath the fringe of dark locks was a small scar, covered purposefully at all times by the few strands that seemed to want to cooperate.

This scar was a very unusual scar. It was shaped like a lightning bolt, and made the boy owning it very famous, albeit not in our world. He was famous in a different world, both next to and very far away from ours. It was the Magical world, filled with witches and wizards, goblins and ghouls, vampires and werewolves. The scar in question was a remnant of an attempted murder by a very evil wizard when Harry was just a baby. Something that his mother, Lily, had done just before her own death at the hands of the wizard caused the spell to backfire, ripping his own soul from his body. Something that Aunt Petunia was both very proud of and extremely sad from.

"Your mother was always brilliant." She had told Harry on numerous occasions. "She stopped a monster that the so-called most powerful wizard couldn't." Petunia always went on to warn him of the fact that he would be praised for what his mother did. She told him to not dispute it, but be proud of his mother.

Beneath the scar, Harry was a slightly tall for his age, lean eleven year-old. Four years of soccer had made him very athletic. He had a slightly dark, guarded expression, as he mentally prepared himself to reenter the world that had taken away his parents for the second time in two months. His aunt had taken him to Diagon Alley for his school supplies, and to show him his parents' immense wealth that had been left for him, the day after his eleventh birthday, disguised to not be recognized anywhere besides Gringotts Bank and Ollivander's wand shop.

As Harry came into the dining room, Petunia was putting the plates of food on the table. Harry sat down between his uncle, who reached over and ruffled his hair ("Honestly, Vernon, as if his hair isn't messy _enough." _Petunia huffed) and his cousin, and best friend in the world.

"You ready, HJ?" asked Dudley. "I mean these people…"

"As ready as I'll ever be, Dud. Aunt Petunia has told me everything she can." Dudley nodded solemnly. His mother had drilled into their heads how to be wary of witches and wizards. She had informed Harry that due to his fame and wealth, girls would probably be all over him, and boys would try to use him as "friends" in order to raise their own social standing.

She had also warned him of the headmaster, Dumbledore. "His letter told us to treat you horribly. But I could never do that to the child of my best friend and sister. Don't you _ever _trust him, Harry. He will try to use you because of some prophesy that my sister didn't even believe in."

Harry stepped into King's Cross station alone. His aunt had told him how to get onto the platform, but didn't want to face "those vile people." She had given him a letter to give to the one wizard she thought Harry could trust, Severus Snape, who had been Lily and Petunia's childhood friend from down the street, who just happened to be a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Harry slowly pushed his cart toward platforms nine and ten, subconsciously pushing his hair down to cover the scar even more. As he neared the secret entrance to the magical platform, he heard a plump woman speaking quite loudly to what seemed to be an army of redheaded children around her.

"-packed with Muggles of course-." Harry rolled his eyes at the stupidity of this obvious witch, shouting magical terms for all to hear. "Now, what's the platform number again?"

"Nine and three-quarters!" Said a little girl next to her excitedly.

Harry stared, open-mouthed at the woman. Surely this woman had been on the platform too many times to count before. And as he thought about it, there was no sign announcing it as nine and three-quarters. Not on this side of the portal, at least. Unless she was _trying _to get somebody's attention. He grew suspicious. As he looked closer, he noticed the woman's eyes darting from person to person, looking for somebody. He remember his aunt's warnings, and combined with the letter from the headmaster, which, if followed, would have probably had his relatives not tell him how to get onto the platform, made him realize that she may be looking for him.

Harry ducked behind a newspaper stand, and watched through the cracks of the stand as the mother seemed to give up looking, and ushered her army of redheads through the portal. He bought a newspaper to not arouse the vendor's suspicions, and pushed his own way through the seemingly solid wall. Despite his wariness toward all things magical, the sight before him took his breath away, just like Diagon Alley had.

It was the most beautiful steam engine he had ever seen. People were hurrying about, as the train was scheduled to leave within the next half hour. Harry pushed his way through the crowd, keeping his head turned downward. He quickly found a compartment to himself, and he put up his trunk and owl cage (his owl Hedwig having flown ahead) up on the rack, and sat down with one of the introduction to the magical world books he had bought. He had read them all three times, so as not to look a fool when anything was said, as well as his required textbooks. He was currently reading _So You Found Out You're a Wizard _for the fourth time.

As he began to read chapter six, two voices floated up through the window. He recognized the voice of the witch that had been shouting about Muggles. He glanced out from the shadows of his compartment to see her standing alone, with only the youngest boy and girl from her family.

"Ronald, remember, you are to find the Potter boy as soon as you can and befriend him. Albus doesn't want him anywhere but Gryffindor, as he will have to be the headmaster's poster child. We need the money Dumbledore is offering you for this task. _Do not_ mess it up."

"I know, mum. Just remember, I want a new broom next year for it." Replied the boy in a rude voice.

"Yes, yes, I know. You'll have your broom. But if, and only if, Potter is wearing red and gold by the end of the night and you are his only friend."

Harry had heard enough. He slammed the window shut, just as two more redheads entered the compartment. These two were obviously two of the ones from the family outside, just as they were obviously twins. Harry instantly had his guard up.

"Hey there firstie -"

"- have you happened to see -"

"- a boy with dreadlocks?" They finished together. Harry was slightly caught off guard by their twinspeak.

"No, I haven't, sorry."

"Oh, okay then. Thanks." Said the one on the right. "I'm Gred, by the way. And this is Forge."

"No, no, no, I'm Gred, you are most definitely Forge." The other said to the first. "Don't be confusing firsties just yet."

"But I wanted to be Gred today Forge, I told you that an hour ago." The first whined jokingly. Harry was thoroughly confused now.

"So your names are Fred and George then?" He asked as they took a pause for breath.

"Yes, yes, yes, Fred and George Weasley, at your service." The one on the right bowed extravagantly, followed by the other.

"You still haven't specified which is which," Harry pointed out, liking these two, despite the conversation he had overheard between their mother and brother. They shared a quick, slightly startled look.

"Ahh, dear brother. A firstie with a brain. This is quite unusual-."

"- Especially given that the firstie we know has less than average in the department-."

"-Yes, exactly. My name is Frederick Gideon Weasley, and this handsome bloke here is George Fabian Weasley." Said the one to the right, bowing again.

"I'm Harry…" He trailed off, wondering if they were in on the scheme he had overheard.

"Harry, Harry Potter?" They asked together, curiously.

Harry sighed. "Yeah, him." He said. "Could you not tell everyone? I do enjoy my privacy."

George winked at him. "You're secret is safe with us, Mr. Potter."

"And you'd want to stay away from our brother Ron if it's privacy you want." Added Fred.

"Too right, brother mine. Our dunderhead of a brother has the tact of a raging bull. We'll tell him we saw you at the front of the train then." They bowed once more, each trying to outdo the other, and left the compartment, leaving Harry somehow winded from the conversation, but secretly pleased. If they were in on their mother and brother's scheme, they would send Ronald right along.

Harry chuckled, and sat back down with his book. As he read silently, the train started to move. He saw the youngest redhead walk by a few times, but was undisturbed for most of the trip, except for a round-faced boy asking about a toad and the food trolley lady. He changed into his robes as it began to get dark, and then sat back down with his book. As the train began to slow, he got up and stretched his back with a deep yawn. His back popped in multiple places.

He left his things on board as instructed, and then made his way onto the platform. He stepped into the crowd, spying the Weasley twins, who both winked at him. As he began to follow the crowd, he heard a booming voice above the people.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way. C'mon, keep up. Mind yer step now, firs' years follow me." It was the biggest man Harry had ever laid eyes upon, and he was directing them toward boats. "No more'n four to a boat!" Harry climbed into a boat, being joined by the round-faced boy who asked about the toad, a blonde, pale, pointed-face boy, and, to his distaste, a dejected-looking Ronald Weasley.

"So, did any of you see-." Ronald began.

"Aren't you a Weasley?" Sneered the blonde. Ronald's ears turned a shade of red at the blonde's tone.

"Yeah. So?" He replied in a challenging voice. The blonde laughed harshly.

"Well stay on _that _side of the boat. My robes are worth more than your entire house, according to my father." He looked at the other two occupants of the boat and puffed out his chest. "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy." He said pompously, holding out his hand.

"N-Neville Longbottom." Said the round-faced boy, shaking Draco's hand nervously. Draco nodded, seemingly satisfied with the name. Then he turned to Harry, Who Ronald had just began to eye suspiciously.

"I'm Har-." He tried to say, but was interrupted.

"You're Harry Potter!" Ronald shouted at him, looking quite desperate. "I'm Ron. Y-y-you know that your parents were in Gryffindor, right? Best house there is, by far." Draco scoffed. "Of course, if you want to be evil, you could be a Slytherin." He added, glaring at Draco. "You definitely don't want to be a slimy snake."

"I dunno," mused Harry. "I've always liked snakes, so the house can't be all that bad." As he said this, Draco got a slightly greedy look in his eye, while Ron looked incredulous.

"But Harry, You-Know-Who was in Slytherin. All the evil ones were."

"Don't listen to him, Potter. Not all Slytherins are evil, though there are some." Drawled Draco. "Just like not all Gryffindors are good." He sent a look at Ron, who laughed.

"Yeah? Name one Gryffindor who was bad then." Ron challenged with a smug look.

"Sirius Black." Draco answered immediately. Ron looked angry for a moment at being proven wrong. He sputtered for a moment while Draco looked more and more pompous. Finally Ron launched himself at the blonde.

As the two boys scuffled at one end of the boat, Neville and Harry noticed that the boats were slowing to a stop. The blonde and redhead were still fighting in the bottom of the boat, while Harry and Neville joined the rest of the first years. Two very burly boys went to the boat and yanked Ron away from Draco, and Draco straightened his cloak and stalked away.

The giant man, whom Harry had heard somebody call Hagrid, led them up to a giant set of doors. Hagrid knocked his huge hand three times. The door opened to show a severe-looking woman that looked to be in her late fifties. "The firs' years, Professor McGonagall." He said gruffly.

"Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here."

* * *

Professor McGonagall explained how the sorting would happen. All they had to do was wear an old hat and they would be told where to go. It seemed too simple to Harry, and as the hat began to sing, he realized that it was more than just wearing a hat. The hat was alive. Harry's eyes narrowed, as he tried to think of a way to avoid it. As he was so deep in thought, he didn't notice the Hall going silent, and the other first years glancing around.

"Harry Potter?" McGonagall said, and he realized that she must have already called his name. He blushed very lightly as he made his way to the front of the crowd, whispers breaking out throughout the room. The whispers annoyed him. _Honestly, they don't even know me yet._ He thought bitterly. He reached the stool, turned around slowly, glared slightly at the students, and sat down. McGonagall placed the hat on his head, as he cringed internally. _It's okay, Mr. Potter, _he heard in his head in an alien voice, _I shan't invade your privacy too deeply. I need only scan your surface thoughts and defining traits._

_How am I supposed to believe you? _He thought back furiously.

_Ah, a wary one. Yes, you certainly have a right to be wary. All has not been well in your life, young Potter. When Godric created me, he bound my… _magic, _if you will, so that no student would be violated. Also, I am unable to ever tell a soul, including the headmaster himself, anything that I learn from these sortings. I would swear it on my life, but, as you can guess, my life is more of an abstract thing than that of a human._

_However, it is quite clear, both by your wariness, as well as your intentions toward punishing Molly and Ronald Weasley, as to where you belong. _

The next word was shouted for all in the Hall to hear, leaving nearly everyone in the room, save for Harry himself, thoroughly dumbfounded.

"SLYTHERIN!"

**A/N: Some text is from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone. I mean no copyright infringement. **

**Thank you for reading.**


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